


keep warm

by Ede



Category: Matilda (1996), Matilda - Roald Dahl
Genre: F/F, Gen, Knitting, imagine that glass vase cello case is playing through this whole fic, soft lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21847666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ede/pseuds/Ede
Summary: The first thing Matilda knits is a hat.
Relationships: Matilda Wormwood/Lavender
Comments: 15
Kudos: 90
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	keep warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noxnoctisanima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxnoctisanima/gifts).



> This . . . this is almost pure stream of consciousness. It was so weirdly hard to write for Matilda, considering that I've loved Matilda since I was eight, but hey, that's life. I can only hope I did her justice. I just wanted her to be happy.

The first thing Matilda knits is a hat. 

It's not the worst hat in the world. She's seen uglier ones; has worn uglier ones. Mrs. Wormwood had, when Matilda was about three, been seized by a passion for putting her in electric pink and blue. Glitter had been involved. Matilda had “lost” the hat and matching mittens at the first believable opportunity. 

Anyway, her hat isn't quite on that level, in her opinion. It's soft, and pale blue, and alright, yes, a little lopsided, but still.

She's never been bad at anything before.

It's a little exciting, actually. A challenge for her hands, for once. Not that her brain isn't involved at all, because learning to knit while she reads has been a process, but her hands have never struggled to learn anything, not cooking or writing or glorious, glorious calculations. 

Miss Honey smiles when she sees Matilda wearing the hat.

“It's lovely, Matilda,” she says, her elegant hands curled around her teacup. Miss Honey – and she will always be Miss Honey to Matilda, even now, all these years and a childhood later – has silver in her hair now, and she wraps herself in delicate cardigans and her delicate smile. Matilda has lunch with her three times a week, and they talk so often about everything; about Miss Honey's garden, about Matilda's symposiums, about the latest lizard Lavender has brought home, about poetry and literature and life. 

Matilda smiles up at Miss Honey, and says asks her about the school, and they talk for another hour about brilliant young minds and smiling little faces.

The next project is a scarf, and Matilda doesn't actually finish it. 

She'd seen a website that recommended scarves as beginner projects, good to learn how to keep your stitches even and graceful, and she'll admit, the half of a scarf that she did finish was very helpful in that direction, but it's almost as boring as early childhood. She's afraid that if she'd tried to keep going, the yarn might have started to float, and she's worked so hard to keep her mind occupied. 

Lavender laughs at her when she throws the scarf down, and scoops it up for herself. 

“It'll make good potholders,” she grins, and takes a picture of it to send out to all their friends, Matilda's pouting face in the background. She's not a giving up kind of person, but Lavender says that's what makes it so funny, and kisses her on the cheek before vanishing up the stairs, the scarf's unfinished end waving sadly behind her.

Hats are the next ten projects, and Matilda hands them out to all her coworkers. Professors are often absent minded, and having hats on hand to pass over when someone realizes they've left theirs at home is an advantage and a gift, particularly in the winter. She knits beanies, and slouchy hats, and stocking caps, and hats with earflaps. She sends Bruce one made just for him, bright green with an enormous bobble on top; he sends back a picture of him wearing it, the smile on his face big enough to match. 

It becomes a kind of peace, to sit tucked up in her corner of the armchair, book balanced on her knees, yarn winding quietly through her hands, while Lavender sits beside her, her feet tucked under Matilda's thighs and a smile on her face. The needles click softly and Lavender hums pieces of songs, and all is right with the world. 

She hands a multicolor cowl over to Hortensia, who immediately winds it around her face and begins to tell her son a story about a monster who hides children in a closet just before she eats them up. He grins back up at her, wild and eager for more, and, when Hortensia uses the cowl to help her make the voices, he squeals with delight. 

It's a year and a half before she comes to a lunch with Miss Honey holding a small box, her stomach twisting in a way it hasn't for years. 

Miss Honey smiles at her, and talks about her new kitten, and the color she's painted the kitchen, and the small boy in her latest class who is so clever about trees. 

Finally, Matilda slides the box across the table, and waits. 

The white gloves are perfect on Miss Honey's hands, small hearts hidden at the inside of the wrist, and the wool is soft against Matilda's neck as Miss Honey pulls her into a gentle hug. Matilda sighs, relaxes into it. 

“You are still spectacularly wonderful,” whispers Miss Honey. “And I will always love you, so very much.”

\---

Matilda wakes up, blinks into the sunlight, and smiles. Beside her, Lavender is already awake, wrapped in a rose pink sweater, pale against her skin, her bare legs curled up underneath her, a book in her hand. She smiles back down at her, and reaches out to smooth the hair from Matilda's face. Matilda presses her cheek into Lavender's palm, presses kisses against the heel of her hand, and watches as Lavender giggles.

“Glad you risked the sweater curse for all your people?” Lavender teases, her curls a riot around her beautiful, beloved face. There are pillow creases pressed into her right cheek, and there are ink stains on her fingers, and she is the most perfect woman Matilda has ever seen.

Reaching over, Matilda puts her hand on the curve of Lavender's hip, grins at her wife, and lets herself be carried away by the sheer force of her own feelings. She's in her own bed, in her own home, with her own wife. Downstairs is their kitchen, all of their books, her roller skates and Lavender's terrariums. In a few hours, they'll meet up with Miss Honey for brunch, and tonight, they'll cook dinner together, or dance around the living room in their socks.

Matilda never dreamed a life like this for herself, but oh, she's so glad it found her. 

“I'm so glad you understand me,” she sighs, almost dizzy with happiness. Lavender's smile spreads even wider, and she lets Matilda pull her back down into the sheets, lets Matilda slide her hands up the curve of Lavender's back and rest on the back of her neck

Lavender kisses her, careful and warm, and murmurs, “Every little bit of you.”

Matilda Honey laughs, winds her fingers into her wife's hair, and is content.

**Author's Note:**

> According to knitting wisdom, knitting a sweater for someone you're dating will end the relationship before/by the time the sweater is completed, but I've seen this expanded to include friends and family as well. Certainly, in my experience, giving someone a handknit that I made has always been a bit of a Big Deal for me.


End file.
